Who likes to love, let him take heed!
  And wot you why?
Among the gods it is decreed
  That Love shall die;
And every wight that takes his part
Shall forfeit each a mourning heart.

The cause is this, as I have heard:
  A sort of dames,
Whose beauty he did not regard
  Nor secret flames,
Complained before the gods above
That gold corrupts the god of love.

The gods did storm to hear this news,
  And there they swore,
That sith he did such dames abuse
  He should no more
Be god of love, but that he should
Both die and forfeit all his gold.

His bow and shafts they took away
  Before his eyes,
And gave these dames a longer day
  For to devise
Who should them keep, and they be bound
That love for gold should not be found.

These ladies striving long, at last
  They did agree
To give them to a maiden chaste,
  Whom I did see,
Who with the same did pierce my breast:
Her beauty’s rare, and so I rest.